


Five minutes of mortality

by CabiriaMinerva



Series: The Lucifer enigma [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Deckerstar - Freeform, Devil, F/M, Fallen Angel, Immortality, Minor Violence, Mortality, Sexual Tension, Vulnerable Lucifer, What if?, not much but still..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:20:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabiriaMinerva/pseuds/CabiriaMinerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if things had gone slightly differently in Lucifer's flat, the night Chloe saw his scars and made him bleed? </p><p>One-shot, alternate development of 1x04.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five minutes of mortality

**Author's Note:**

> I am not an English native speaker (and I couldn't find a beta for this), therefore I apologize in advance :) Feel free to point out the mistakes!  
> As stated in the summary, this is a one-shot... but I'm not excluding the possibility of transforming it in the first chapter of a longer story (right now I have some ideas and I'm trying to figure out what to do with them). In any case, I'll appreciate any ideas, comments or contructrive criticism :) Enjoy (I hope)!

_Don't... Please..._

  
  


She could see that his eyes were trying to escape her gaze, almost afraid of what they could tell her of their devilish owner. The way he had reacted to her touch... why? Those scars were surely horrible, but also old. And he still was terrified of whatever story was behind them.

«Lucifer...» His hand was still tight around her wrist, and although she wasn't scared by it – how could she be, when he was looking so vulnerable? - she could feel her skin starting to suffer from the friction. And it was also close to his chest – _oh_ , _so close_ , the warmth of his bared skin could caress her fingers. «You're hurting me...» He loosened his grip – not much, but enough to release the pressure on her flesh. 

Her free hand raised, almost without her realizing it, and brushed the lightly trembling fingers of the man. «I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...» she apologized, although she was not sure for what. Chloe only knew that the image in front of her was intimately disturbing: the mighty Lucifer Morningstar, witty and insolent and so damn sure of himself... was now uncomfortable, with staring eyes and trembling like a frightened child. Somehow, she couldn't bear it. She had to soothe the pain she unwillingly brought back to his memory, she  _needed_ to. Why, she couldn't explain – or maybe she knew, but she didn't want to give in to the thoughts and feelings she  _might_ have felt toward that impossible man in a few occasions. And still her hand was petting Lucifer's, almost tenderly trying to calm him and bring back the confident asshole she knew he was – to make things normal again. Then, her fingers were not on Lucifer's strong hand any more (when in Heaven's sake did they move?), but were now resting on his chest (and God yes, it  _was_ warm and  _so_ appealing...), her thumb still lightly brushing the skin.

«You're entering a dangerous zone, detective...» whispered the man, barely able to put up a façade to cover how uncomfortable her almost touching his scars made him. 

_I am, am I not?_

And yet she couldn't bring herself to move away. _Why?_ _What's he doing to me?_

He lowered his hand, still holding her wrist, and she could almost sense his confidence slowly coming back while he regained control of the situation. His other hand suddenly posed itself on her hip, clenching to it possessively, bringing that unreachable woman even closer. She mindlessly realized that seeing him vulnerable had made her vulnerable as well, and that he was now recomposing thanks to this. Yes, she had entered a dangerous zone, but just couldn't move, couldn't think straight.

He leaned a bit closer – his lips brushing her hair as he whispered words she didn't register, lost in his scent, in the warmth of his skin, in his firm touch. He had her exactly where he wanted her, and she was shamefully aware of it.

«You better leave...»

She blinked in confusion. _What?_

«You better leave, the soirée is starting and your suspect is likely to arrive very soon.» He repeated drily, letting her go and taking a few steps back. «I suggest you wear this in order to blend in.» A very short red dress landed on her arms while Lucifer entered another room.

«Yeah, it's a good idea, actually.» Her answer still betrayed her confusion. He had had her exactly where he wanted her, and he didn't take advantage of it. He'd just abruptly walked away, recomposed and almost brutally cold. «What about you, should I wait for you here or...?» she attempted.

«No, you go. I will join you afterwards.» The door closed after him, letting her wondering what the Hell had happened.

 

* * *

 

It took him longer than he'd thought to quiet himself – although he still wasn't sure of _what_ precisely had happened. She was under his fingers, literally in his hands and control... and he hadn't been able to do what he'd always do. Any other time, with any other person, he would have had at least a mildly satisfying blowjob. But he wanted her to _want him_ , like any other human who'd encounter him – not some kind of pity sex. It just didn't feel wrong – and he didn't do _wrong,_ he only punished it. So no, he didn't take her because he didn't want her _like that._ Being vulnerable had shamed him, but seeing _her_ vulnerable in response had actually touched a nerve, almost shocked him. _Why? What is she doing to me?_ Now he was angry – at himself, at her, at whatever and whomever. Just angry.

He took a step into the Lux, smiling to one of the women hanging from his arms – ah, yes, something he had learned in his stay on Earth, was that beautiful women (and men) were the best way to cheer someone up. Well, at least this was how it usually worked, for that night he was all but enjoying them. His eyes were wandering, _looking for_... No, looking around, admiring his Lux... _honey blonde hair..._ his marvellous club... _a flash of red..._ He tried to shrug these fastidious side-thoughts away by lowering his hand on a brunette's back, thinking of how a nice night he'd be having in just few hours. _Yeah, well, but will it be fun, though?_

Some more steps and they reached the counter, but while the others asked for their drinks – courtesy of the owner – his gaze finally found the origin of all whatever-that-was that had upset him.

She was leaning toward some wanker who probably used low end pick up lines – nothing compared to him, obviously, but still she was so close and sensually smiling... it actually irritated him. Then he said something wrong, since she took a step back and dismissed him. Lucifer then observed her repeating the scene with two or three other guys, all attracted to the blonde woman as moths to the light. _Oh, she is investigating, right_. Of course, the case. A girl... What was her name? Ah, whatever. He slipped away from his party and joined her, just in time to see another useless _moth_ being removed from the detective's space. «Uh, I think the dress may have backfired, actually.» He smirked, ignoring the flash of concern and uncertainty – of course she'd look for something, a sign of that terrible and shameful moment they shared in his flat. _Humans... so easily confused. Fascinating._

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucifer spotted that player-guy. «I think we've been spotted.» As in response to his words, Carver stood up and, blatantly distressed, tried to exit the club. «Clearly a man with nothing to hide.»

 

* * *

 

«I'm bleeding.» Incredulous, he raised his hand, now red with blood.

«You are bleeding.»

«I'm bleeding.» Ok, _that_ was not something he had anticipated. Actually, _that_ was not something that could have happened. The Lord of Darkness was older than the Earth and very much immortal. Yet, the wound on his thigh was bleeding – his words spoke of a wonder no mortal could begin to understand.

«God.. Of course you're bleeding. What have I done?» Chloe's voice trembled.

«I don't... I don't bleed. It's... ugh, damn.» The pain made him kneel on the cold ground, and she quickly reached him.

«Lucifer... I'm so sorry, are you ok?»

But he didn't care for apologies. «What does this mean?» If she hadn't been so focused on the fact that she had just shot an innocent human being (ah, the irony), she'd have heard the shock in his voice – not the pain or whatever a person would have felt when shot. Only the shock of a Son of God bleeding for the first time in billions of years. And maybe a pinch of fear – for even Lucifer needed some more seconds to subdue the fear of change even immortal beings could feel. Maybe in an hour or so he'd even forget it and his mind would tell itself that it was _thrilled_ , _eager to explore more of this change, even excited._ But, for these long few seconds, even his mind was slave to the nature of all Creation.

«Well, it means I shot you, and I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry... And I'm in so much trouble.»

  
  


* * *

 

«I know.... tough day at the office.» He descended the stairs in a clumsy way – being hurt was really an annoying inconvenience.

«What happened to you?»

He reached over the counter to take a bottle of scotch and poured some in a glass. «Oh, you'd never guess. She shot me, and I bled!» The warm feeling of alcohol through the throat only managed to excite him more.

«What? That's not possible.» Maze looked confused and disgusted, as if the thought of mortality alone was a blasphemy.

«I know!»

«What's causing this?» The best torturer of Hell gave voice to Lucifer's own deepest question. _I don't know._ He then only partially recorded her other words – his mind was furiously trying to make sense of what had happened, of _why_ it had happened. It was almost after 25 minutes of Maze's reprimand («Tell me we're going home.», blah-blah, «You – _we_ are being punished because of this _vacation_.», some other blah-blah.) when he interrupted her: «Stab me.» Another glass of scotch gone.

The daughter of Lilith stopped talking and her gaze questioned him.

«I want to see what happens when a dagger cuts into my flesh.»

Her eyes opened widely – he just discovered that he could _bleed_ , that he was _vulnerable_ , and he wanted her to stab him? That was it – the Lord of Darkness had finally gone mad. She should have listened to Amenadiel.

«Are you disobeying your king's order?» A flash of red eyes.

Yes, he was probably mad, but she was still his subject – and a loyal one. Reluctantly, she took a small dagger out of her leather pants and stabbed his left hand, right in the middle. 

Nothing happened. He felt no pain, just an itch. Mazikeen pulled out the blade. Not one drop of blood. As the demon began to feel relieved, Lucifer frowned in surprise. «What does this mean?»

«I don't know, and I really don't care. But you are still  _you_ and we should go back to Hell before that changes. Before you allow  _her_ to make you mortal for real.» He could tell that was supposed to be a joke – not a very good one, but his bleeding wound had clearly upset her, so he'd ignore it. Just for once. He watched silently as she put back the dagger and took leave, the last splash of scotch untouched.

_Yes, but what does this mean_ ?


End file.
